


Words Can Paint Pictures, Kisses Tell Stories

by sometimesiquestionmylifechoices



Category: One Direction
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Reality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-23
Updated: 2013-03-23
Packaged: 2017-12-06 04:43:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/731559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sometimesiquestionmylifechoices/pseuds/sometimesiquestionmylifechoices
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a short oneshot where Harry and Louis are asked about Larry in an interview and brush it off, but it leads to the confession of some feelings. Major fluff. And some smut ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Words Can Paint Pictures, Kisses Tell Stories

**Author's Note:**

> If you're reading this, I love you and you're amazing ;)  
> Really though, thanks for reading, you're amazing! Please leave comments or kudos if you like it. xx

“Alright, the next question is for Louis and Harry,” chirped the interviewer. The two boys smiled politely and leaned forward, already having an inkling of what question was coming.

“Larry Stylinson. What’s going on there?” Harry took the question without any hesitation.

“We’re best mates. We live together but there’s no real romance.” Louis simply nodded in agreement. It was partially true. There was romance, but it wasn’t mutual. Louis had a crush on the curly-haired lad since the X-Factor, but as far as he could tell, the feelings were not reciprocated. Harry constantly went on dates, sometimes seeing the same girl three or four times, but hardly ever more than that. He and Louis cuddled in their flat, but never more, and Harry never expressed the desire to do more.

“What do the other lads think of it?” the interviewer asked, addressing Liam, Zayn, and Niall.

“Well, I think we’re all like that, in a way. We’re all the best of friends,” Niall, the only one aware of Louis’s feelings in the band, jumped in. He glanced over at his friend sympathetically. Louis smiled a small smile in response.

The last eight months since the X-Factor had been wonderful and horrible at the same time. Louis had fallen head over heels in love with Harry and had to watch him date girl after girl, with no real relationship ever forming between any of them. However, he still got the marvelous butterflies in his tummy and the increased heartbeat and all of the other things that came with being in love.

On the drive back, Louis, Niall, and Liam sat in the back of their van while Harry and Zayn sat up front, Harry fast asleep on his shoulder, snoring softly.

“Tough luck, mate,” Niall muttered.

“It’s worse than tough luck it’s why-does-the-universe-hate-me luck.” Louis scowled at back of the sleeping Harry’s head. Liam leaned over and decided to join the conversation.

“What are you guys talking about?” Niall looked back and forth between the two boys, then sighed.

“The thing, Liam.”

“Oh.” Liam reached over and patted Louis’s knee. “I’m sorry, mate. It really is tough luck.” Louis gaped at Liam, the glared at Niall.

“He knows?” he accused.

“Not like it’s a huge secret. Anyone with eyes can see those looks you give him,” Zayn casually announced towards the back of the van. “Except, it seems, Curly here.” Louis buried his face in his hands and groaned.

“That’s embarrassing.”

“Well, not really. You two act like a married couple,” Niall commented. “I understand it completely.” Liam and Zayn nodded in agreement. Louis sighed.

“Yeah. I just wish he could understand it.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The boys arrived to the complex where they lived and Zayn nudged Harry awake, who then groggily climbed the stairs with Louis to their flat. As soon as they got in the door, Harry dropped down on the couch and Louis sighed, and then went to the kitchen for a cup of tea. As he made his tea he affectionately watched Harry from the doorway. His back was to Louis, but he admired the mop of curls resting on the couch cushion, watching the television. When his tea was ready, Louis went into the den to join Harry on the couch. He sat down at the opposite end of the couch, and Harry looked over at him disapprovingly. Louis tried to ignore him and succeeded for a little while before he cracked a smile.

“What?” Louis asked, completely chaste, still looking at the telly. In response, Harry continued to scowl and opened his arms. Louis, completely unable to resist a cuddle, however platonic, sighed quietly and moved over to lean against the younger boy. Harry was already half lying on the couch, so Louis easily lay back on his chest, almost like a human recliner. Louis tried not to notice how his head fit perfectly on the other boy’s shoulder while Harry began to absentmindedly play with his feathered locks.

“Lou?”

“Yeah?” Louis responded, grateful his voice didn’t crack. The way he could feel Harry’s chest rumble with every word his deep voice made him feel a little loopy.

“Do you want to do something tomorrow night? We don’t have anything planned with the boys.”

“I thought you had a date tomorrow,” Louis said, cautiously optimistic at the thought of a night with just Harry.

“I did. I cancelled it.”

“Oh . . . why?” Louis felt Harry shrug underneath him and decided to drop it. “Well, what did you have in mind?”

“I hadn’t really thought that far ahead, maybe rent a movie, order pizza, you know, just hang out like we did before our schedules got so crazy.” _And you started dating every girl in the city,_ Louis added mentally.

“Yeah, that sounds great, Haz.” Harry wrapped one arm around Louis’s shoulders and gave a small squeeze.

“Great.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Harry, I’m going to Liam’s for a little bit,” called Louis in the general direction of the flat’s kitchen, where Harry was doing God-knows-what.

“Louis William Tomlinson, you better not walk out that door until you give me what I rightfully deserve.” Harry emerged from the kitchen with his curls in a complete state of disarray, still wearing the t-shirt and pajama pants he’d slept in, even though it was 1:30 in the afternoon. Louis sighed and walked over to him.

“Don’t ‘Louis William Tomlinson’ me, Harold Edward Styles.” Harry scowled and poked Louis’s chest sharply.

“Don’t call me that.” Louis smiled an angelic smile.

“Why ever not?”

“Because it’s not fair. Louis is your name, not a nickname for some stupid name like Harold.” Louis furrowed his brow.

“I quite like the name Harold.” Harry laughed.

“Flattery won’t get you away from giving me what you owe me,” he reminded Louis deviously. Louis sighed, feigning annoyance, then stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist. Harry reciprocated the embrace enthusiastically, tightening his arms around Louis’s shoulders in an overly expressive best friend hug. When they pulled apart, Harry tapped Louis’s nose with his pointer finger.

“Remember, you can’t leave the flat without giving me one of those, Boo Bear.” Louis’s nose wrinkled at the nickname. “You have to be back in time for our movie night, Lou.” Harry faked sternness. Louis laughed.

“It’s just to Li’s. He’s in the same complex as us, you nut. I’ll be back at six,” Louis called in response as he walked out the door. On the short walk over to Liam’s flat, he texted Zayn to ask if he was coming. It took some convincing to get Zayn up off his bed, but eventually the dark haired boy agreed to meet them there.

“Li?” Louis called, letting himself in.

“In the den, Lou,” Liam called. Louis walked into the room to find Liam sitting on the couch with his legs curled up next to him, reading a book. He plopped down next to the other boy, letting out a big breath and letting his head fall back on the cushion.

“What happened?” Liam asked, setting down his book. Louis waved his hand dismissively.

“The usual. Haz made me hug him on the way out the door like always, and told me to make sure and be back for our movie night tonight. Oh, he cancelled a date for tonight, and we’re hanging out like we used to, just me and him.”

“Why’d he cancel the date?” Louis shrugged.

“Beats me. Zayn is coming soon, when he drags himself out of bed.” Liam laughed.

“Well, that won’t be for another hour, then,” he joked. Louis gave a small laugh and nodded in agreement. At that moment, the doorbell rang. Louis jumped up to open the door, finding a sleepy-eyed Zayn in sweats, a white V-neck, and a hoodie.

“Zayniekins! You’re up! And here!” Louis threw a hug around the other boy.

“Get off,” grumbled Zayn. Louis laughed and pulled him into the den. “Why isn’t Niall here too? And Harry?” Liam waved to Zayn and answered before Louis could.

“Niall went to go see his cousin who was in town.”

“Oh, Li, I forgot to tell you. Harry’s doing something in the kitchen too. I didn’t dare to venture in but he was quite the mess when I left,” Louis interrupted. Zayn snorted.

“Maybe he’s baking you a cake to express his undying love.” Louis knicked Zayn’s shoulder. “Or a rejection cake.” Louis’s smile froze on his face and he plopped down on the couch. Liam gave Zayn a look before placing a comforting hand on Louis’s shoulder. Zayn sighed.

“Mate, I was just kidding. It’s early and I’m tired, you know I didn’t mean it.” Zayn sat down on the couch next to Louis, who sighed and nodded, resting his head on Zayn’s shoulder.

The three didn’t do much of anything for the next few hours. They just hung out, talking and snacking a bit until the clock reached 5:45 and Louis decided he’d better head back to his flat. When he walked in the door, a heady smell of chocolate hit him like a brick wall.

“Harry?” he called out. A mess of curls poked out of the kitchen.

“Louis! You’re right on time!” Harry exclaimed, grinning. Louis laughed.

“Of course I am. It smells great in here, what’d you make?”

“Brownies. My favorite recipe I learned in the bakery before X-Factor.” Louis smiled.

“Great. I’ll order the pizza.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

After eating the pizza and the brownies, which Louis thought were absolutely delicious, the two boys cuddled up on the couch together with some blankets and selected a stereotypical chick flick from Netflix. About halfway through the movie, at the point where the painfully cliché teenage heroin discovers she’s in love with her best friend, Harry turned towards Louis with an odd look on his face.

“Louis?”

“Yes?”

“Have you ever been in love?” Louis hesitated.

“Well . . . I think so.”

“Was the person you fell in love with really your best friend? People always talk about how their husband or wife is their best friend. Were they your best friend?” This question Louis answered without hesitation.

“My best friend in the world.”

The two sat quietly throughout the remainder of the movie, which ended exactly as they both expected, with the girl getting the boy and being liberated from whatever trouble she’d had at the beginning, which Louis couldn’t even remember. All he remembered was the way he and Harry had cuddled, Louis’s head on his chest so he could hear the steady beating of Harry’s heart. By the time the movie ended, it was 10:30. Feeling too awake to go to sleep, but too tired to do much else, Louis decided to take a shower. The warm water on his back calmed his mind about the boy less than 50 feet away from him, and when he got out, he dressed in his favorite pair of sweats and a black t-shirt. After briefly towel-drying his hair, he stepped out into the boys’ shared bedroom, which was almost too large to be called a bedroom, and walked over to his bed in the dark. He heard rustling across from him and as his eyes adjusted he saw the shape of Harry rolling over to face him.

“You’re not tired, are you?” The familiar deep voice was strangely husky and quiet.

“No. Not at all.” This went unanswered, and Louis drifted off in a short daydream about walking over and joining Harry in his bed which was abruptly interrupted by a sniffle from the other boy.

“Haz?” Louis sat up, alarmed. “Are you okay?” The response was barely audible.

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure?” There was a pause before Harry spoke again.

“Do you want to know the real reason I cancelled the date tonight?” His voice broke on the word ‘real.’ Louis started to feel a little shaky.

“Sure.”

“I have . . . feelings . . . for someone else.”

“Oh.”

“Louis?”

“Yes?”

“Can you come . . . over here? Come cuddle with me?” Louis hesitated for only a split second before throwing off his blanket and walking over to the other bed. Harry made room for him and Louis lay down next to the other boy, who seemed to be on the verge of tears. Louis looked into Harry’s eyes, seeing how shiny they were, even in the dark. Overcome by compassion, Louis gathered Harry into his arms, the other boy burying his face in his neck, tears streaming down his face and getting all over Louis’s shoulder and neck, but he didn’t care. He wrapped his arms tightly around Harry and rubbed his back.

“Harry, Harry,” he soothed. “Hazza, are they the reason you’re crying?” Feeling the boy nod against his neck, Louis’s heart broke.  “Who is it? And why are they a reason for you to cry?” Harry took a deep, ragged breath, and Louis tried not to notice the way the other boy’s hot breath brushed against his collarbone.

“I’m almost positive they don’t feel the same,” he mumbled, ignoring the first question.

“Harry, it’s practically impossible for someone to not feel that way about you. You’re charming and sweet and caring.” Harry’s head started shaking before Louis finished talking.

“I wouldn’t say that,” he whispered, pulling back and looking Louis in the eye.

“I would,” Louis murmured, rubbing Harry’s back again. “Who is it, Hazza? You can tell me anything, even if it’s one of the other lads. I’m not going to judge you.” Harry took another shaky breath.

“Do you promise?”

“Of course,” Louis whispered, trying to put as much of his caring for the other lad in his voice in the two words as possible.

“Louis,” Harry said, with tears shining in his eyes again. He ducked his head back down into Louis’s neck. “It’s you, Louis.”

Louis’s hand, which had been rubbing Harry’s back, froze. He tried to think of something to say but the words just wouldn’t come out of his mouth. How did he put every emotion he’d been feeling for eight months into words? Was there a way he could make all of the butterflies in his tummy tumble up and out into the most beautiful, amorous words anyone had ever uttered? How did he explain the emotion of feeling the most expansive euphoria combined with the oddest urge to burst into tears? While he contemplated this, Harry seemed to compose himself a little bit and drew back slightly, not meeting Louis’s eyes.

“You don’t have to, um, stay here. I mean . . . I’m fine if you want to . . . you know . . . go back to your bed or whatever.” His voice broke at the end of the sentence and Louis’s stomach lurched, realizing the turmoil the younger boy must have been going through while his mind was busy reeling.

“Hazza . . .” Louis murmured, taking the other boy’s chin and tilting his face up, but Harry still refused to meet his eyes. “Harry, look at me. Please?” The fields of deep green finally met his blue ones, and Louis’s breath caught, realizing how close their faces were. Louis noticed the new tears rolling down the other boy’s cheeks and wiped them away with his thumbs. “Please don’t cry. I’m literally speechless right now. Give me a minute to think of how to say what I want to say.” Harry nodded, looking down, his eyelashes darker and wet with tears. Even hidden by the darkness of the room, Harry was breathtakingly beautiful. The flush from crying was barely noticeable but was definitely present on his cheeks, and his lips were slightly parted, shallow breaths escaping in nervousness. And when he looked up, eyes deep green and glassy from tears, Louis knew there was no way to put everything he’d felt into words. He knew that you couldn’t simply tell someone of your love for them. You have to show them. So he did.

Louis leaned his head down, bringing their lips so close together he could just feel the warmth radiating off of Harry’s, although they didn’t touch yet. Louis felt Harry’s breath hitch and at this he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and pressed their lips together. Harry immediately responded to the kiss, inching his hands onto Louis’s waist. Louis used the position of his hands to press Harry’s mouth even harder onto his own, trying to fill eighth months of love, longing, and passion into one single kiss. When they broke apart, Louis felt the butterflies start to fly their way up from his stomach and out of his mouth into the truest words he’d ever spoken.

“I love you, Harry Styles.”

Harry’s eyes widened and he inhaled almost imperceptibly.

“Louis . . .” Their lips were connected again before he could say anything else. Louis didn’t know if he’d leaned down or if Harry had reached up but he did know that Harry was the best kisser he’d ever kissed and that his hands were snaking into the other boy’s curly locks and that his hair was _soft,_ that Harry’s hands moved around to the small of his back and pushed their bodies together and that his tongue slid surely yet hesitantly into Louis’s mouth, exploring every inch.

Louis pulled away to press kisses down Harry’s jaw and neck, biting softly at the place where his neck met his shoulder, eliciting a soft moan from the younger boy.

“Louis,” Harry murmured, voice husky, putting his hands on the other boy’s jaw and pulling him up for a soft kiss. “Do you know what you do to me?” Louis glanced down to Harry’s lips before shaking his head. In response, Harry grinned a small, cheeky grin, and then pressed his hips into Louis’s thigh, making the older boy quietly gasp in surprise at the hardness against his leg. Harry leaned down and bit Louis’s lip softly, pulling slightly before releasing it. Louis inhaled sharply and threaded his fingers into his curly hair, crashing their lips together again. These kisses were sloppier, messier, filled with need, and Harry pushed Louis to the side gently so he could roll over onto him. Louis let out a small noise at the immediate friction, and Harry rolled his hips down onto the already prominent bulge in Louis’s sweats, then repeated the action as Louis slid his hands up under his shirt, pulled it off, and trailed kisses along Harry’s collarbone.  Harry took off Louis’s shirt and slid his hands down from his chest to his stomach and finally to the waistband of his sweatpants. He glanced at Louis, who nodded in encouragement, kissed Harry’s shoulder, slid his hands up, and carded his fingers into the curls again. The younger boy slid the sweatpants down and palmed Louis’s obvious erection through his boxers, causing Louis to squirm underneath him. Harry removed the last layers of clothing on both of them and wrapped his hands around Louis, the other boy whimpering quietly in response. As he started to pump his hands, Harry sucked surprisingly gently on Louis’s neck before reconnecting their lips. Louis could tell he was getting closer as his hips bucked up and he gripped the younger boy’s curls tightly.

“Harry . . . I . . .” Louis was unable to say anything else as he came with a groan, spilling all over Harry’s hands and his own stomach.

When he finished he noticed the hardness still present on his thigh and wrapped his own hands around Harry’s length. It didn’t take much for Harry to come, already close to the edge from being on top of the writhing boy.

Louis grabbed a towel from the floor and they cleaned themselves up before Louis cuddled into Harry’s side, burying his face in his neck while the younger boy pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“I love you, Louis William Tomlinson.” And as Louis kissed the small mark he’d left on Harry’s neck, he knew that the only truer words ever spoken were the ones that came out of his mouth immediately after.

“And I love you.”


End file.
